The One With All The Moments
by Maaya
Summary: A series of headcanons. Part 3: The One With The Christmas Holidays. Pre-Mondler.
1. The Art of Teasing

**Note:** Partly, I needed a break from the angst that comes with writing _Only One_. Also, I appear to have gathered a fair share of ideas and headcanons about this show; thoughts about the characters and their pasts, moments that I believe should have happened between them, and so on. I thought, maybe instead of compiling a list that the world will never see, maybe I could write small snippets based on these headcanons. Most of them are shamelessly Chandler-centric. I'm still not sure if the world actually is interested, but eh, here comes the first one.

Smutty Chandler/Monica! (Be aware of the M-rating!)

**The Art of Teasing**

Chandler is an attentive lover.

Honestly, this starts out as plain insecurity because he doesn't want to be a _bad_ lover and he figures, what better way to avoid that than to give, focus and listen? Of course, Monica's heartfelt lesson from back when he had been dating Kathy had helped, a lot, and Chandler had worked on it from there. And he likes it, really _really_ does, watching his lover squirm and moan and completely fall apart from what Chandler is doing to her.

When he and Monica get together, the whole experience is taken to another level (With Monica, _everything_ seems to be taken to another level). Monica is a woman who _knows _what she wants and she has no problems being verbal about it, guiding him with her enthusiastic responses, and even words ("Oh, oh, _lower_, _more_...!") and once he gets to know her reactions better, Chandler learns to distinguish when he can tease and when he can give.

He learns to rile her up until she's quivering, all sweaty pale skin, dark hair splayed over the bedsheets, and it is the best thing that Chandler has ever experienced, the most beautiful and arousing thing in the world.

Keeping both their focus completely on her helps keep him going, too, sweet teasing denial that keeps him away from the edge. In time, Monica learns this too, and uses it to her own devilish, amazing schemes. He knows that she loves having that power over him, and Chandler doesn't really mind submitting to her wishes and ideas. Every time is like this fantastic privilege, that he gets to do _this_ with _her_, getting to feel and see her like this.

He is so tantalizingly close, a few touches away from orgasm as he watches Monica buckle and moan under him, pushing herself down on his fingers and Chandler kisses her cheek and neck and her mouth as she comes undone.

It takes a few moments, but when she comes back up from her pleasure, Chandler feels weak because she has got that _look_. Satisfied, pleased and altogether playful.

"That was, nice," she says to him, running her hands over his back.

"Just, nice?" Chandler breath hitches as he tries to affect causal. "I must be loosing my touch."

She laughs, pleased, her 'you're so cute'-laugh, letting her hands run lower, towards his hips and seriously, she's _killing him_.

"I, uh." His thoughts are jumbled. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, please do it faster?" Her hands are on him now, just feather-light touches teasing his cock just so. He may or may not let out a very unmanly whimper. "Because I _really_ can't take it much longer."

She withdraws her hand, challengingly. "Say that again."

"Wh-what?" He's dying, and she thinks this is funny? "Please?"

Monica pushes herself up on her elbows and Chandler leans to the side reluctantly to make room for her. "Again," she whispers into his ear, moving over him until Chandler is lying on his back and his brain isn't quite sure what is going on anymore. Her hand moves directly to his cock again, caressing lightly.

The hell with pride. "Please," Chandler mumbles, arching his hips into her touch. "Monica, sweetheart, love of my life. Please."

"You're not taking this seriously." She keeps running her hand up and down his length, giving just a little less than the required amount of pressure.

"I've. Uh. Never _been_ more serious." He pauses and says, in a softer voice. "Please?"

She kisses his cheek sweetly. Her hand tightens just so, and she speeds up and Chandler may or may not see stars as he comes, hard, over Monica's arm and hand and his own stomach. He lies there for a moment, his mind working itself out of the gray haze that seems to have overtaken it.

"We are way too good at this," Chandler says finally, staring at the ceiling as it comes into focus again. He hears Monica let out a breath of air that sounds sort of like a laugh, and he moves his head to look at her. They grin stupidly at each other for a moment, until Monica suddenly makes a face and wipes her hand off on his bare stomach.

He grimaces, glancing down at himself. The downside of not having had a condom available; sex is even messier than usual. He reaches over the bed to grab a tissue, offering one to Monica and using another to clean himself off. He and Monica toss their tissues simultaneously towards the trash can, both hitting their target. They grin again, stupidly. They've been grinning a lot since they hooked up that first time, in London.

"Seriously, though," Chandler says, stretching out his arm, offering her to cuddle up against him. She does so with a surprising familiarity, considering that they've only been doing this for a couple of weeks. "I mean what I said. I may be the best, but that's only because you make me."

Monica pinches the tender skin below his nipple; he yelps and tries to move away but her weight on his arm keeps him put.

"Can we drop this subject now?" she says, rolling her eyes.

"I like this subject," he protests, and tries to squirm away again when she reaches out, threatening to pinch him again. "Dropping the subject!"

"Smart man." Monica rests her head on his arm, smiling at him sweetly, and Chandler can't help but smile back, even as his stomach is doing small flip-flops.

It is too early to consider love; but, he thinks, sometimes it is difficult not to.

**end**


	2. The One With The Mornings

**A/N:** I've had this headcanon ficlet thingie on my hard drive for some time without knowing what to do with it, until I remembered that I actually did create this placeholder story here on for this kind of thing. It offers very little in terms of story (I'm sorry I am so boring but I love writing these kinds of things) but I guess that posted here, at least it has the ~potential to not just be a waste of space

**Part 2: The One With The Mornings**

The six of them have a long tradition of having breakfast or brunch together. Phoebe, after she moves out, has the longest way to travel and usually only shows up on the weekends. Ross' tendency to come over had been directly proportional to how his marriage with Carol had crumbled, and once he moves to his own apartment he ends up having breakfast with his sister at least four days out of seven. At first, it is a thing of comfort; eventually, it becomes a habit and no one really begrudges him it.

For Joey and Chandler it is a bit different. They have minimal travel time and they hang out at each others' apartments quite interchangeably (or admittedly with a heavy focus on Monica's) either way. Once Rachel moves in it usually becomes the four of them. Only, during the first couple of years Rachel's schedule is quite varied, and Joey _never_ really has a dependable schedule.

Some mornings, it is just Monica and Chandler. A core breakfast group of sorts. It stands true even when Monica is between jobs, because if there are some things that Monica _needs _during those times, it is routine and productivity.

It can be oddly quiet between them on those mornings. Chandler is not a morning person, especially not before he gets some coffee into him, and he is _never_ happy about going to work. Joking about it is a technique that has proven to encourage him somewhat, but with just Monica he can sometimes allow himself to simply be grumpy about it.

Sometimes it is dark outside and the rain will patter against the windows. They will huddle over their coffee cups together, keeping their conversation soft to avoid the misfortune of awakening the beast also known as Rachel. Sometimes they will solve the crossword puzzle together. Sometimes, Chandler will sigh, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table, hunched over, and genuinely ask Monica to skip work with him.

Monica will laugh, ruffle his hair as she stands up and offers him a refill.

Chandler will grimace at her but accept the offer, and they will steal just a couple of more minutes together in the calm, warm, dry apartment before they both head off to work.


	3. The One With The Christmas Holidays

**A/N: **I'm sorry, I know I should write something more original, but writing these is comforting. Like, I don't know, eating a cookie?

Have a nice weekend!

**Part 3: The One With The Christmas Holidays**

After that first disastrous year, Thanksgiving becomes a holiday reserved for the six of them. It is only natural then, that Christmas becomes a family holiday. There are a few exceptions, and the six of them exchange gifts every year either way, usually a little before Christmas; generally, however, they all go their separate ways for the holiday.

Phoebe celebrates with her grandmother. (A couple of years later she will celebrate with her little brother and his family, and will come back looking somewhat exhausted and a bit hysterical). Joey and Rachel visit their families; Joey goes happily, Rachel with a certain trepidation. Apparently the decision of who spends what days where is still not completely solved after the divorce.

Ross and Monica, of course, head home as well. Monica can't help but feel somewhat optimistic every time, but the feeling of dread usually takes over before they even ring the doorbell.

She loves her parents, she does, but she also knows them. She knows them as the younger sister she once was, the girl who would become dominant and almost overbearingly competitive just to compensate for the praise her brother would receive. She knows them as the awkward, hopeful teenager she grew into, and finally, she knows them as an adult.

Monica loves her parents, but a lot of the time, she doesn't _like_ them.

Christmas is part time lovely, part time awful. It involves a lot of cooking and evenings by the fireplace, card games and personal questions about her lack of boyfriends or career perspectives. It is nice to be there, but it is also very nice to leave.

The stress she feels around the Christmas holidays doesn't give her much time to think about anything or anyone else. It is only on the twenty-fourth that she begins to wonder about Chandler.

He is the Christmas wild card of the group. Monica knows that sometimes he leaves for various exotic locations, mostly Europe, to visit his mother. He never seems very excited about it, despite the others' envy, but that is just Chandler for you. It almost pisses her off, sometimes, because while her parents are pretty well off they aren't that fond of traveling and Monica has only been out of the country once before.

This year, Monica isn't sure what his plans are. During the morning as she packs her bags she searches through her memories of the past few weeks and comes up with nothing. Typical. She glances at her watch; she is well on schedule and can take a few minutes, she supposes.

He and Joey hadn't come over for breakfast this morning, probably because they knew she would be leaving. Joey had probably even left by now. Rachel had gone a couple of days earlier to visit her father before Christmas.

Monica walks across the hall to knock on the boys' door, wondering how she could have missed any eventual discussion regarding Chandler's plans.

It takes a few moments before the door opens. When it does, Chandler blinks at her, his hair messy.

She gapes at him. "How can you be sleeping now? It's ten o'clock!"

Chandler blinks again, then rubs his face with his palms. "Hi?"

She takes a step back, shaking her head to rid herself of a sudden feeling of awkwardness. "Uh, I'm leaving soon, so I just wanted to say goodbye."

Chandler runs his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it. "Okay. Merry Christmas."

Monica responds automatically. "Merry Christmas." She hesitates. "So... what are your plans for the holidays?"

"Well." He seems to have woken up properly by now, though he is still attempting to tame his hair, dragging out his response. "Other than Not Working, you mean?"

The flippancy of his reply causes a slight pang in her chest. Monica thinks that she will probably never understand the relationship that Chandler has with his family. Despite Monica's own complicated relationship with her parents, she has never lost her will to keep _trying_. Chandler, on the other hand, seems to have given up long ago.

"You know you're always welcome at our house," she says without thinking. At his surprised look, she plows on. "My parents would love to see you again." It is an outright lie, because for whatever reason her mother's upper lip will always curl with disgust at the mention of Chandler's name. Still, Chandler doesn't need to know that.

He raises his eyebrows at her. "The last time I spent a holiday with your family, I lost a limb."

Monica feels herself flush, and her fist shooting out is automatic, really. "It was only your toe!"

Chandler winces as she hits his arm, rubbing the spot. He looks at her accusingly in a way that almost reminds her of her brother. "Ow."

He can be such an infuriating person times. "It was only an offer. If you don't want to..."

He drops the wounded act to give her a somewhat lop-sided smile, shaking his head. "Nah. I've got pizza and a TV marathon of Christmas movies. It'll be great."

"Well, if you're sure." Monica hesitates for a moment, then stands on her toes to give him a quick hug. "Merry Christmas, Chandler."

"Uh. Merry Christmas." He scratches his chin, and Monica notices that his cheeks are a little pink all of a sudden. It makes her smile.

"See you in a couple of days."

"Yeah."

She gives him another smile, turning to head back to her apartment to pack the last of her stuff. He smiles back, the corners of his eyes wrinkling, as he closes the door.


End file.
